Reminder: I don't in any way, shape, or fourm own Grey's (pity isn't it) or any other song/song title used in this fic so...enjoy!
Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking
IV: The Good Fight
Consider the odds,
Consider the obvious.
The martyr is meaningless,
The campaign has died.
Her emaciated forum slumped meekly over the weathered breakfast set, soul weary eyes staring numbly into the quiescent oblivion of space.
"I feel empty." She murmured, gaze unwavering, garnering the unadulterated attention of all who flanked her.
George shifted tediously, a soft sigh breaking his lips. He knew this Meredith, over-wrought and lovelorn, the last time he'd seen her this catatonic was after her initial break up with Shepherd. "Mere?" He sympathetically cooed, briefly drawing on the humble camaraderie of the room.
"I feel empty." She murmured once more, insipid gaze faltering between the gathered culminations of her friends, her family. She was dying inside, unable to cope with the emotional ramifications of the previous evenings exertions.
In the planning stages and the fallen faces
Are the singular proof that it was ever alive.
With blatant understanding of the reminiscent situation, George shifted uncomfortably within his chair. Meredith felt empty he dejectedly mused, and the only plausible explanation for her illusive illness was nonetheless Derek Shepherd.
"She feels what?" Callie timidly interjected, breathing the words inaudibly into the lobe of George's ear.
"Empty." He drew, casting her a feeble smile. "She feels empty." He paused, faltering his sad, soft gaze from his catatonic roommate to his blatantly bewildered girlfriend, whom, nonetheless, only wanted insight to the lingering situation. "The only other time I've seen her…" George sighed acutely, intonation lowering an octave. "Seen her like this, was after Shepherd."
This purchased rebellion has been outbidded,
Denounced and rescinded and left to die championless.
I begged you not to go.
I begged you, I pleaded.
Shepherd, it was then and there that Callie understood the petite interns' woe.
It had been in the culpable way they'd glared at her, bodies spent and replete, various items in disarray.
She'd seen it in Meredith's eyes, wanton and guilty, dress hanging limply from her gaunt shoulders, exposing to Callie the obvious ramifications of their coupling.
Claimed you as my only hope
And watched the floor as you retreated.
She'd been trembling, Meredith; quaking irrepressibly as she'd hurriedly took it upon herself to right the interns tainted frock. Eye's discerning the lingering indentation of the attending physician's teeth marks atop the abraded fall of her neck and shoulders.
She felt piteous towards the catatonic intern, bruised and broken, shattered within, unable and unwillingly to quell the ache she felt for Derek Shepherd.
Hope has sprung a perfect dive
A perfect day, a perfect lie.
A slowly crafted monologue conceding your defeat.
"This is about last night…" Callie murmured, casting a sympathetic glance towards an incapacitated Meredith. "Isn't it?"
Meredith's eye's fluttered demurely; dark lash's kissing tepid skin. "I can't…" She whispered, her words a lilting breath atop her lips. "I can't stop…" She vaguely alluded, the brief reverie giving Callie heed to inaudibly shoo an abashed George from the room. "I like Finn, he's a good man…" She woefully mused, breathlessly articulating her indecisive emotions. "But all I can think about is Derek." She paused, stoically shifting her weight. "About him and about last night." Her voice faded, eye's narrowing in whimsical delight. "It was the way he felt inside of me and against me. I can't stop thinking about it; I can't stop replaying it in my mind, over and over again." A single tear faltered its way down her crestfallen countenance. "It's wrong and dirty and demoralizing, but I can't stop…" Her face flushed in blatant aggravation and repressed discontent of her actions. "I can't stop loving him, and I want to, I want to so badly but I can't. And Finn, wonderful Finn, has plans, and is everything I need but I don't, I can't…"
Does it comfort you to know you fought the good fight?
Basking in your victory,
Hollow and alone
"Love him." Callie interjected, a complex idiom of both comprehension and sadness contorting her features. "You can love someone, and not want to be with them." She shrewdly voiced doe eyes narrowed in deliberation. "And you can want to be with someone, and not love them." She smiled in earnest, sitting attentively back against the windswept chair.
"I love him so much." Meredith gutturally whimpered, a pitiful, pleading gaze silently beseeching Callie. "But I can't…I can't do this, not again."
While you boast your bitter bragging rights to anyone who'll listen.
While you're left with nothing tangible to gain.
I would like to thank everyone for the amazing reviews! Keep em' coming Sil-Vous Plait! The song is byDashboard Confessional!